The last few standing
by Cat Fyre
Summary: Berk is at war. War with the Irish tribes. Only four of the six young Vikings are left now. But every second in war each of them must fear that they become three. Everybody had lost somebody. Dragons. Fathers. Mothers. Friends. Beloved. Some had lost everything. Some had still kept hope for the missing. Others had seen their friends die in their arms. Will war corrupt them?
1. Astrid

**Disclaimer: I don't own HTTYD**

"Snotlout, I need the water!" Snotlout ran to the call of the chief, not even panting under the massive weight of the two buckets of water. He had been used to it. They all have.

The camping area was filled with the smell of roasted deer, but had a strong scent of smoke in it. Snotlout could have guessed it. Astrid had set their meal on fire again. Now either he had to run, or the whole troop would stay hungry. He ran and in pace handed Astrid a bucket, while pouring the other one over the fire. The flames struggled, fought, but died out. At least they had saved the deer, and with it Stoick from the many complains about empty stomachs.

XXXXXXXXX

Astrid's throat burned, longing for water. But there was no water. Her little sack as empty to the last drop. And it was barely after noon. The Sun burned down into her face, heated her up and made her sweat, and the sweat mixed with tears she cried.

_**This was WAR**_

When the gang had set on with the older Vikings, neither of them had expected the true outcomes of war. War meant deaths. Not only to the enemy, but also to their own people. Deaths. Death. Astrid's eye let go another tear, which she didn't even bother to wipe it off. War had changed them all.

Hiccup was gone. He was in the halls of Valhalla, dining along with Fishlegs. They were both dead. Astrid covered her eyes by the thought of the tragedy. It was an arrow of the Irish. One that had hit Hiccup even before Snotlout, fighting next to him in battle, could lift his shield in defense. It could have beed his fault, if at the moment an Irish sword wouldn't have cut his thigh. He hadn't paid much attention to it, but had fought of the swordsman who was close to striking Hiccup. Then he had brought his cousin off the battlefield, and had barely made it to the dent conscious (he had used his body as a shield), but for Hiccup it was too late. He died in the arms of the doctor. Snotlout had been saved, but he didn't much care, and gave himself the responsibility for Hiccup's death. He was his cousin, and even he had lost quite a few tears by the burying ceremony. Of course it was no ones fault, but it was still hard to cope with, for each and every one of them.

Hiccup had gone first, and shortly after that Fishlegs was taken as a war prisoner of the Irish, and the rescuing troop had freed him during an attack. As they ran Tuffnut was wounded in the side by a guard, and Snotlout as the strongest took the job of carrying him, while Ruffnut was helping Fishlegs. Then they had been spotted by five guards, and one had cut Fishlegs dead. They had managed to flee the castle, and Tuffnut survived his injuries, but the ceremony for Fishlegs' burial had finished them all.

They had multiple occasions in which they had protected one another, and they had all come closer:This was war.

Astrid had even got to like Snotlout a little bit more (only a very, very small bit). When they had evacuated the village during an attack from the Irish, he had helped her to send Stormfly away. He had been talking more to his cousin when Hiccup lost Toothless that night. He had volunteered to go to war with them, making the biggest sacrifice of his lifetime. Since they left Berk, he had first lost Hookfang, then his mother, then his father, and then his only cousin. No one wondered why he had changed. No one ever insulted him when he spared a few tears. Astrid had found out that he could cry too. She sometimes saw him huddles up in a corner of the camp, sobbing. Sometimes she had joined him and they talked about Hiccup, or he told her about the multiple times his mother would shout at him, because he had made Mildew's sheep a target for throwing knives. He talked about Hookfang, and they remembered what pranks Hookfang played on his owner, like almost eating him, or setting on fire when they rode, or only catching him when he jumped off in the very last moment, or about how that dragon alone ate half of the fish they had stored for winter. They would talk about Spitelout, and that was always the part he would break out in tears, and Astrid soon noticed that he had no doubt his father was now dining in the halls of Valhalla, probably drinking or shouting at his wife Helga for this or that. Astrid never thought of Snotlout with such a fantasy and imagination. Funny how things had changed.

Ruffnut and Tuffnut had stopped arguing, and were stuck together all the time. They fought together back by back, circling and winding into the rows of the Irish. Tuffnut had his pretty scar he could be proud of, and Ruffnut had one all the way across her back. It was her first counter attack when she got it. Astrid had noticed a difference in their behavior, and when she asked they had answered her that their father had been dating this other woman. They were torn between their parents, and only their father's disappearance released them. They were both very certain that he had survived and was searching for them, but even if they could fear the worst, they didn't cry. Astrid guessed that they were too stubborn to accept their father's death.

She coughed at the drought in her throat and tried to wash down the last drops of her water sack. But it was completely, disastrously empty.

"Here." Astrid looked at the hand which held a water sack filled up to a third. Water! She took it and drank three beautiful, long-lasting, refreshing gulps. Then she noticed that the hand was attached to a muscular arm with a bloody band aid around its top. That arm in turn belonged to Snotlout.

"Keep it. You need it more than I do." She looked at him and then slightly nodded her head, thankfully. He walked up beside her, noticeably bored of the continuos silence of the marching. She leaned away. No, this was definitely not the time for talking. She didn't care about what the others saw in her right now. Nobody really did. But she still had no interest to talk above her aching legs, no matter how nice it would be to tell someone how much she missed Hiccup. She had loved him. But now he was gone. Gone like Fishlegs, Spitelout, Mogybeard, Helga and all of the others. They had lost at least twenty men. The women had stayed in Berk, to protect the children. Only a few went, like Helga, when the whole Jorgenson family had volunteered. Well, the Jorgenson family. That was only Snotlout now. This fact made Astrid both sad and happy. Her mother had stayed in Berk. She was not going to be the last Hofferson. Even if war meant sacrifice, some sacrifices were too big. Enforced sacrificed. Unwanted sacrifices.


	2. Tuffnut

Tuffnut's POV:

Was there really such a big difference between one side and the other?

Wasn't the castle they were attacking filled with the same people as them?

Why fight?

Why kill?

Why war?

Oh no. Don't think. Thinking never did me good. It just hurt my brain. Battle, yes, battle is good. At least it was good. Until me and sis went to war. Poor Astrid, poor Snotface, poor sis. I hope all the dead are in Valhalla now. It sounds great. Fight and never die! I might wanna visit it some day. But that's WAY ahead. I'm not quite ready to die yet.

Hey Hiccup. Hey Fishlegs. I hope times are better for you now. I really wish. Me, sis and Snotty never meant what we said about you guys, you know? Sorry. I hope I'll be able to meet you some day. As I said, FAR ahead. Sorry, but I'm not ready to die. And Hiccup. We miss you. And you too Fishlegs. We all do. I guess we're not THAT tough. Tears by the campfire, stories of you, sobbing into each other's arms: we really have sunk low. Even Snotlout. Who'd believe that. But I guess it's kind of, OK REALLY difficult not to cry when your only relative is the chief, who has not even looked at you yet. But I'm not gonna nag by best friend. I kinda owe him my life. Almost, em, three or four times. And I saved him too. Couple of times. Yes, go me! Ok, maybe I saved him once, but still YAY! I'm a hero!

Hic, I wish I was a better friend.

* * *

Tuffnut ran into the castle with his new best friend Snotlout by his side, both of them swinging their axes. Ruffnut was to his left, and Astrid was on Snotlout's right. In this four formation, they could battle anything. Tuffnut and Snotlout attacking and bringing the enemies to their side, and Astrid with Ruffnut taking over the already wounded ones, delivering final blows and cleaning up the path. With all of them, Tuffnut was ready to die. Not completely ready, but he would go through anything anywhere. All of them saved him at least twice, and all of them he had saved two to five times.

There was nothing he feared when he attacked the castle. Little did he know of the tragedy to come over his friends that rainy night. Little did he know of the hidden archers in the halls of the castle. Little did he know that there was no out of this war for him.

"Snotlout! I'll take the left doorway with you and the ladies take the right one! We need to split up!" Tuffnut cried and grabbed tighter onto his axe. His best friend followed him closely. Suddenly they heard guards shout. They were armed with crossbows and swords.

"Tuff, the right, the right!" Snotlout shouted out while he himself made the lead. The right side was less guarded, so there was a bigger chance to get through. Tuffnut swung his axe and twisted into the attack of the armed guardsmen. Right next to him he saw Snotlout, sprawled with blood, beheading the largest of them. Tuffnut was about to lift his axe to the chest of the guard in front of him, when something swished through the air and hit him in the chest. Pain all over him. Tuffnut knew he fell and hit the floor, but the pain in his chest made the hit seem nothing. He heard the cries of Snotlout "TUFF!" as if through a wooden wall, distant and unclear. Blackness was closing up on him and he was cold, so cold. All of the sudden he saw Snotlout over him, panicked and tears covering a bloody face.

"Don't…tell…me…this…is…your…blood…" Tuff whispered and coughed up blood.

"Don't worry Tuff. It's all right. You'll pull through." his fighting partner told him shivering.

"No Snotlout. I'm dying. Take care of Ruff, will you? And don't get yourself killed." Tuff's eyes slowly filled with the dark and the cold. He could feel blood prickling down his chest and 'Lout's rough hands holding him.

"No Tuff. Don't die! Please, buddy, hold on, you've got to hold on!" 'Lout cried. No way, not him too!

"We need you, Tuff! Come on! Don't leave us…" he whispered, and that was the last thing Tuff knew of this world. His best friend holding him, crying over him, while pain throbbed in his heart and an arrow was stuck in his ribs. The last scene of Tuffnut Thorston's life. A moment he wouldn't want to leave, he wouldn't want to miss.

But it happened. The dark closed around him and he felt cold, so cold, as he breathed out for the last time of his too short life. Lights flickered in his mind and there he dreamed of a giant waterfall and a stoned castle. A big flash of light and the creaking of giant doors. There he saw an old but still strong man with a raven on his shoulder and an eye patch over one of his eyes. He had an atmosphere of pure strength around him, as he opened his arms and smiled. Tuffnut couldn't believe his own eyes.

"Odin?"


End file.
